In the Near Future
by BioFlare
Summary: A trainer and her toucannon win their first tournament, which the trainer looks back upon years later. She reflects on the past and makes a new friend. Written for Pokemon Crossroads Forum's Winter Carnival event under the theme "heartwarming."


**In the Near Future**

Her eyes flashed around the arena. A barrage of sound was drowning out her thoughts; crowds in the stands were stirring whirlwinds of shouts and cheers, and every speaker in the stadium blared out an announcer's overbearing commentary while a subtle undertone of exciting background music leaked through. Despite every sound beating against her ears, somehow, she could still hear her own heartbeat.

The long blonde-haired trainer focused back on the birdlike pokémon only a few metres from her. Charcoal feathers downed his back until meeting with a splayed arrangement of blood-orange plumage, sporting a limp tail that twitched with impatience. The enormous striped beak erupting from the pokémon's turned face parted slightly as a throaty rumble murmured through the air around it. Strong wings hung from the creature's side, ready to expand at a moment's notice.

The woman forced out a breath she had been suppressing. At her chest she clutched a sizable feather, half black and half white. Her eyes remained on it for a brief moment before she tried to lock eyes with her pokémon, but found herself unable to as a sudden voice sliced through her concentration.

"Alakazam, now!"

A shimmer of energy charged through the arena, originating from what appeared to be a tiny stuffed toy sitting on an angle atop a boulder.

"Ty, get _out of there_!" she shouted, folding her fists into knots as she watched in angst, careful not to crush the feather.

The blinding wave was too fast, rippling through the air directly into the toucannon who had tried to take flight in time. The rumbling crow of the flying pokémon struck his trainer in the heart, inviting a grimace to take hold of her face. She watched the psychic force collide with the invisible barrier protecting her from any incoming attacks, dissipating as the shield's properties cancelled out any energy of pokémon origin. Her pokémon was blown back, scraping along the rocky ground and bordering a pool to one side of the arena. His fierce eyes blazed with a lust for revenge, willing him to his scaly feet again as his trainer hissed a breath of relief.

She threw her arm forward. "Feather dance, Ty!"

While the alakazam shimmered back onto the field to take a tiny nibble of the mystical item dangling from her neck, the woman's toucannon fluffed up and completed a small ritualistic dance which seemed to sharpen his resolve. His narrowed eyes focused back on the alakazam, whose form blinked from view again as the substitute doll took her place.

"Use calm mind, Ala," shouted the opposing trainer, a young boy standing on the other side of the arena.

The long blonde-haired woman lunged at the opportunity and shouted, "Fire a bullet seed!"

The flying type launched off the ground, taking wing as his beak began to vibrate softly. Moments later, a volley of volatile seeds shot from his throat, colliding with the small toy for a number of seconds before its endurance fizzled, and it was once again replaced with the alakazam who had summoned it. The tail-end of the cluster struck the pokémon's face, eliciting a glare from her sharp eyes which seemed to do little to rattle the toucannon.

The male trainer across the arena shouted his next command, which was projected by smaller speakers within the battle arena itself, but the woman could hear it clearly: a reflect barrier. Her toucannon was a physical attacker, but that didn't mean she would be deterred by such defensive measures.

After the barrier was erected, the alakazam again turned to her small cube and took another quick nibble. With each bite, the woman knew the psychic type was regaining strength. She had to remove it.

"Get in closer, Ty, and take those damn leftovers!"

The toucannon obeyed without hesitation, diving down at his opponent. The male trainer shouted at his pokémon to create another substitute, but the alakazam, weak from the ongoing battle, tried without success. Ty was prepared for a last second dodge and snagged the leftovers in his beak, slamming into the psychic type's chest at the same time with a subtle dark-type power. The chain broke free and the cube of leftovers was squashed in the beak of the flying pokémon, who proceeded to swallow it as an impulse reaction. His trainer smirked.

The male trainer, frustrated with his opponent's move, sneered in response. "Ala, psychic again!"

"Charge up beak blast, Ty; melee range!" yelled the long blonde-haired woman.

Her pokémon understood the command and whirled himself around in midair, his beak beginning to redden with heat. The flying type's eyes narrowed further as the burning sensation seemed to irritate him a little, his broad wings beating furiously as he hurtled closer towards the alakazam. The ray of psychic energy tore through the air, striking Ty as he continued his descent, momentarily rattling his trainer.

"Ty!" she shrieked, but her pokémon prevailed, emerging from the off-pink rays still conscious. Her heart hammered in her ribcage as she watched in earnest, her fingernails digging into her palms escaping her notice.

The alakazam did not have a chance to move from her spot before the toucannon plummeted directly into her, the two of them tumbling across the rocky arena. The long-haired trainer fixed her eyes on them as they skidded to a stop, the toucannon scrabbling atop the alakazam while pinning her neck down with his enormous beak. The psychic pokémon shrieked as the burning hot beak seared into her flesh, which was echoed by her trainer.

"Teleport, Alakazam!" he commanded through the speaker system.

"NOW!" ordered the blonde-haired trainer.

An explosion took the entire audience by surprise, a deafening roar accompanying a plume of dirt and dust billowing from the source of the attack. No outcome could be seen, as the competing pokémon were completely obscured by the thickness of the dust cloud. Gasps rang out through the stands as the two trainers glared at the plume, each sweating, panting, and furiously hoping that their pokémon emerged conscious.

The hanging question was answered by the sudden reappearance of the alakazam, whose image flitted into existence on the opposite side of the arena. The cameras operated by the arena's staff focused on the psychic type, projecting her onto the massive screens situated around the stadium. She looked battered and barely standing, but remained upright nonetheless.

The long-haired woman clutched the stray feather closer as her eyes flicked from the screen to the slowly dissipating cloud, muttering, "Come on, come on..."

What remained of the dust plume was suddenly swept away by a centralised gust of wind. Taking wing once again, the still-conscious toucannon began to close the distance between him and his opponent, waiting for a command as his eye found its way to his trainer's spot on a raised platform to one side of the arena. She felt a shiver down her spine as she realised that this was the end of the match; what happened now was make-or-break.

"Alakazam," the male trainer began, also thinking carefully, "one last psychic attack."

The blonde trainer's eyes locked onto her pokémon, knowing what was coming. He was tired, almost out of energy, and had probably only held on this long because of the extra boost he had acquired from swallowing the alakazam's leftovers.

"Protect," the long-haired trainer shouted, watching as her pokémon managed to encase himself in a shimmering emerald force field while continuing to power toward his opponent, the wave of psychic energy sweeping past him and leaving him unharmed.

The alakazam flinched once again, dropping to one knee and clutching her seared neck. The burn seemed to be sapping at the very last of her energy, but wasn't quite enough to finish her off.

Without having to be asked, the toucannon dove in and delivered a final blow with his wing, knocking the psychic type clean off her feet and into the dirt.

The psychic type's trainer screamed in dismay as the cheering in the stands became deafening and the platforms both trainers were standing began to lower. The male trainer bolted out onto the field and fell to the side of his unconscious alakazam while the commentator announced the winner of the Annual Winter Tournament: Isla Reece and her toucannon, Typhoon.

Isla, frozen with shock and simultaneously overcome with elation, exploded from her raised platform and landed unevenly on the ground, racing forward as her toucannon, eyes wide with delight, came shooting towards her from the sky.

Ty slammed into his trainer, immediately knocking her onto her back. She yelped with momentary panic which turned into a fit of giggles as the toucannon furiously nestled into her chin and shook his wings, emitting a cross between a purr and a deep caw. Isla squealed with excitement at their win as she ruffled his feathers, forgetting to be mindful of his injuries.

The two settled for a moment, trainer catching her pokémon's eyes. "You did it, Typhoon. You, my wonderful, resilient toucannon. I never would have thought we'd come this far when we met back in Alola..." She trailed off, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She tried to quash them with a smile, but it didn't stop them from rolling down her face.

Typhoon rumbled happily and wiped his beak against her cheek, eliminating most of one tear. It was then that his trainer realised how exhausted he was, his eyes drooping and his breath laboured. She pressed harder into her smile and then caught sight of the tournament reporter, who was hurrying towards her. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up while her pokémon took up a proud position by her feet. Lastly, she made sure to slip the stray feather into her hair tie, where it stayed in place.

"Isla Reece," began the reporter, smiling at a camera held by the camerawoman who had followed him onto the field. "This is your seventh Winter Tournament, but the first you've won, correct?"

Isla chuckled a little, knowing this was going to come up. "Yes, that's right. I placed third in one, seventh in another, and the others I didn't even get into the top ten."

"Well, I suppose now you've got a lot of years under your belt," he added, pausing as he realised that his words could have been taken as slightly offensive. He moved on quickly. "And this toucannon of yours is quite something! Typhoon, is it?"

"Ty and I met in Alola when I was there on a quick trip one year," she explained. "I've never lived there in _all my years_ , but they have some beautiful pokémon. He was one of them."

"Uh, yes—well, congratulations for today's win, Isla. You've certainly earned it."

She gave a sweet smile to her pokémon, who proudly stared back. "Ty earned it."

 **ooo**

"That was the first of many tournaments we would go on to win together," began a long grey-haired woman. Her wrinkly smile expanded as far as her cheeks would allow, bringing her eyes to narrow, happy slits. "But, of course, you know that, don't you, Ty?"

A large feather rested between two of her fingers as she examined it for a moment. She had kept the same one from their first tournament won together. She knew logically it couldn't have provided her with an actual advantage, but the sentiment was what mattered to her. Although battered and missing many strands, the feather represented a lot to her.

She held it tightly against her chest, closing her eyes as small wet spots developed under her eyelids. She blew air through her nose in minor amusement, surprising herself with her own reaction. She had come here many times in the past few years, but she had not shed a tear since one of the very first few visits. Perhaps it was because she knew this time was different. This time...would be the last time.

She opened her eyes to a bleary grey cement arch resting in fluffy, healthy grass. As far as her eyes could see in all directions around her, other tombstones peppered the landscape. Clutches of humans and pokémon alike had come to the cemetery to visit their passed loved ones. Sometimes she would come with one of her children, and on occasion she had brought other pokémon before they, too, had passed. In her older age, Isla had not endeavoured to raise more pokémon. She was decidedly not up to the task of caring for them and training alongside them, and she had suffered enough heartbreak from dozens of pokémon in her past whose time had come. None had struck her as fiercely as the death of her toucannon, Typhoon. It had been a long time ago now, but the wound was perpetual.

Isla took another breath, feeling her long, grey hair fall beside her face. "I haven't got long, Ty," she admitted, her eyes brushing over the tombstone. "A few weeks at best, so they tell me. The rest of my family is now in Almia... Yes, yes, they offered to come here, but what's an old woman to lose if she spends some money she's never going to use on a plane ticket there instead?" She wheezed out a chuckle, shaking her head a little. Her face slowly gained neutrality, then a tinge of sadness as she leaned down into a rather uncomfortable crouch. She was going to say something final, something resembling a farewell, but the words were lost in her throat and only air escaped.

Accepting this, she leaned forward and placed the feather onto the uneven grave. When the wind threatened to make it airborne, she snatched it back and then jammed its stem into the dirt, where it remained upright. She smiled once again and sat back, reminiscing for a few minutes before she elected to leave. It had been a peaceful afternoon with her toucannon, but the time had come to depart.

A squeaky call sounded from nearby, catching the old woman's attention. She recognised the sound instantly, watching as a small bird pokémon landed beside the grave in a small flurry of wings. Her eyes fixed on the small charcoal, white and scarlet flying type whose giant head ticked to one side.

The woman's eyes became soft as she held out her hand. "Hello, little one."

The pikipek look at her curiously and hopped forward a few paces before stopping and making the same trill. It looked at the tombstone, head making sharp movements as it examined the cement and its etchings. It hopped closer so it was right before the arch, back turned to the woman. It moved its head again, almost as if it was reading the inscription, before nearing it carefully and tapping it with its beak.

Isla cringed a little, not wanting to disturb the creature but also uncomfortable with its pecking, which continued intermittently. "Little one, please do not—"

She was cut off when the bird pokémon rotated in a bounce so it was facing her, but its eyes were upon the feather between them. It flicked its gaze to the elderly woman, then back to the feather, and snatched it from the dirt.

"No!" called Isla suddenly, but the pikipek took off in an instant, fluttering away into the sky. She watched it fly until it disappeared into some faraway trees which she would not be able to reach quickly.

The woman found herself completely at a loss for words. Shock gripped her as she considered the importance of that lone feather and all it represented to her. All she had wanted to do was to offer it back to its rightful owner as a final act, and now her actions had made things worse. She would never see that feather again.

Closing her eyes and trying to douse herself clean of guilty thoughts, she lifted herself into a stand with the help of her walking stick. Her eyes fell to the headstone as tears once again welled up in her eyes. This time, it was a combination of emotions that tugged at her heart: loss, guilt, longing, and her impending future. She thought that somehow, visiting this grave would have made things easier for her, but she knew now that she would leave the cemetery feeling just as empty as when she arrived.

She opened her eyes again, beginning to come to terms with everything. This toucannon had been her strongest and most loyal pokémon, and for that she was grateful. He was always willing to put in effort that sometimes even she could not muster, and although he was not her only successful and reliable pokémon, he was the first she ever felt a strong connection with, which happened well into her adulthood. Most trainers had their success in their early years, then settled down later in life. Many continued on their journeys, but many found adventure before then. Isla had trained pokémon in her twenties, but it wasn't until her mid-thirties that she began to take it seriously. Typhoon was one of the main reasons she was able to eventually succeed, and then at forty-two they had won their first tournament together.

She pushed thoughts of the past from her mind and focused on the present. She had a flight to catch in four hours, and it wasn't going to wait for her.

As she took her first few steps to leave, a flutter of wings once again reached her ear. She paused, unable to react in time as the pikipek from before tried landing on her shoulder, but slid off as her hair went with it. She remained still as the flying type tried again, successfully perching beside her face as it reached up to her hair, then departed again in a small wave of wind.

Isla frowned a little as she first rubbed the small scratch marks left by the pokémon's sharp nails, then touched her hand to the clip on the top of her head. Her eyes went wide as she felt something long and feathery, and pulled it free to inspect it. It was Ty's loose feather, but it appeared to be almost entirely restored. Her mouth fell ajar as she processed that the pikipek had groomed it for her in a way only a bird pokémon could. It was still missing bits here and there, but it looked significantly better again. Almost like it did the day they won the tournament.

She craned her neck to the pikipek who was still flying away and yelled, "May Ho-Oh bless you!"

The flying type did not turn back, but Isla didn't mind. She felt tears tug at her face for the third time in a number of minutes, but these were the most welcome of them all: tears of happiness.

She inhaled deeply and threaded the feather back into her hair, concluding that the pikipek was right; Typhoon would have wanted her to keep it. Perhaps that was not what the pikipek's intentions had been at all, but she was content to believe so.

With renewed peace, Isla approached the grave again. "Goodbye, my friend. Thank you for all the good you put into my life. Perhaps we'll meet again in the near future." She gave a shallow bow. "Rest peacefully, Typhoon."

A gentle breeze blew through her long grey hair, swaying the feather, and she regarded the grave with a smile one last time before turning and leaving the grounds.


End file.
